Unlikely Scenarios
by Isolith
Summary: Sharon tries to indulge in some inappropriate fantasies about a certain lieutenant. Captain Raydor, however, is sometimes a bit too logical in her approach. Andy tries to indulge in a little whimsy fancy about a certain captain. Lieutenant Flynn, however, keeps being interrupted.


**Title:** Unlikely Scenarios

**Summary:** Sharon tries to indulge in some inappropriate fantasies about a certain lieutenant. Captain Raydor, however, is sometimes a bit too logical in her approach. Andy tries to indulge in a little whimsy fancy about a certain captain. Lieutenant Flynn, however, keeps being interrupted.

**A/N:** Takes place sometime after 1x10, I guess. =)

**-o-**

Reality had the inopportune timing of always intruding on her daydreams, Sharon Raydor mused darkly.

Why, she was in the middle of contemplating what delightful and mysterious things she could excuse with intoxication. She was in the middle of a wonderful scenario in her head; she imagined major crimes had just solved a case – they would all be in high spirits – she imagined it would coincide with a police ball; a get together. She imagined flirting lightly all evening – sipping some sweet drink and edging closer and closer; she imagined hands fleetingly touching by accident; she imagined glances being exchanged – the alcohol would douse them in a world of touch and heightened emotions; she imagined catching his eye – imagined swaying towards the back – he would follow her to the deserted part of the building, the noise of the ongoing festivities subdued.

She was in the middle of a wonderful, reckless fantasy of being ravaged in the restroom when all of a sudden '_Flynn is an alcoholic_' reverberated through her mind like a surge of electricity. It put an abrupt end to her little imagined scenario of dragging his hands around her waist and sealing her lips to his. This would be an impossible scenario, her mind screamed. Flynn would not drink, she would keep it to a minimum and her imagined scenario would only result in shared smiles. No forbidden glances of barely concealed lust; no shared looks of desire.

Sharon had trouble indulging in fantasies if they were not somehow rooted in realism; at the moment she couldn't imagine initiating anything with Flynn let alone sex if they weren't both plastered. That was an absurd setup however; she sighed.

Her mind floated and flittered around today; why it landed firmly on Andy Flynn was beyond her. But suddenly she found herself contemplating his tall figure – wondering what lay beneath his always precise color-coordinated suits. Wondering how she would fit next to him; she would have to stand on tiptoe, she calculated, to kiss him. She knew – from holding him back that his arms were well-muscled; they had tensed with strain under her fingers when she had prevented him from flying off the handle. Now her mind went back to that sensation; how would it fit around her – on her – she wondered how his hands would feel.

She shook her head, almost on the verge of reproaching herself out loud; but however sternly she tried to steer her thoughts away, they kept returning to him and his frame, his body – his silver hair – his cheeky grin.

Maybe if she tried another approach; she imagined the whole squad going out – they would celebrate a case closed with success. They would – quite by accident – end up seated next to each other; the table would be small and barely able to hold the whole squad. They would sit pressed against each other; thigh against thigh, shoulders occasionally touching. The others would be oblivious but Flynn and her would share smiles – he would suddenly, briefly and like a ghost, slip his hands down to his knee and by coincidence slip across, down her thigh – it would tingle. She would startle; tilt her head and look at him – she imagined they would share glances with each other through the whole night – and find some excuse when the others left; they would stay – she was in the middle of imagining how he would turn his upper body around, intently focused on her when she suddenly stopped. No; just no. That would never happen, she scolded herself. For Christ's sake; the others wouldn't be oblivious if their captain and Flynn were suddenly sitting making lovey-dovey eyes at each other. It would not be feasible; they would both go home when the others did and that would be the end of it.

She sighed; and cursed silently. This was impossible.

Maybe, she ruminated – maybe it would be here at work. It would be a normal day except – except their suspect would go berserk and she would end up caught in-between. The guy; a greasy haired, bulky gruff man she imagined would hold her in a strong grip; his hands around her throat and in the middle of strangling her; threatening to do it. She imagined Flynn – the others as well – would draw their weapons; a chaotic tumble of angry voices would fly back and forth between the suspect and her guys. She imagined; they would talk the guy down. She imagined she would heave for air; stop them with her hands and excuse herself before they could utter a word.

She would flee to the restroom just outside the break room. She would be standing in the restroom looking at her own reflection in the mirror when he would, gently, open the door and peer in. He would give her a half hesitant smile and saunter inside; he would stand close, close and tall – she imagined his hands would tilt her chin up, his eyes soft – his thumb would gently trace the side of her throat, soothing the angry red marks. She would lean into his touch – she imagined it would happen so abruptly and suddenly it would feel like watching yourself in slow motion; she imagined his lips would be soft – latch unto her own with -

Dammit! What was wrong with her! That was just as unlikely as the other scenarios. First of; she would not let herself be caught by a suspect like that; he would be trampled down by the guys before it could happen, she admonished. Second; Flynn would not seek her out in the restroom – he would know she wanted privacy. He might knock on the door and ask if she was alright; but it would end there.

This was all bullshit; her mind was impossible.

God; she needed to get laid. This was affecting her too much. She needed sex.

Sharon sighed.

**-o-**

Reality was far from his mind, Andy Flynn mused, as he dove into another little daydream.

She would be leaning across her desk; yes – looking for a file or something; it didn't really matter. She would lean across; the cloth of her skirt would stretch with strain, exposing the backside of her thighs as the slit in the back would become more revealing. He would try not to stare, he imagined, but it would be impossible. He would leer; his cock twitching as he regarded her backside. Mmm; it would be a sight.

She would spin around suddenly, file in hand and her eyes would be onto him, her head tilted as she regarded him. Her lips would be painted red, he added in his mind, imagining her lips full and pouty.

He would give her a grin; she would arch an eyebrow and –

_Thud_ – he didn't get any further in his ruminations as Provenza dumped a stack of files on his desk and sullenly told him to get some work done. Shit; the old goat was interrupting every goddamn good fantasy lately.

Andy opened a file and tried to appear engrossed in the words; he went straight back to that little dark delicious thing in his mind though.

- she would arch her eyebrow; curious. She would form her mouth into rounded shape; a red-colored sexy pout. He would say; "_Just admiring the view_" with a grin – in reality she would either send him off to a sexual harassment seminar, he mused, or lecture him into the next millennia – but no, in his mind, she would either blush or smile. Maybe a fusion of both. Yes, she would smile at him, almost coyly – a red tint highlighting her cheeks; she would utter a half-amused, half-chastened '_Lieutenant_'.

He would step closer to her; he imagined she would regard him with curious and half panicky eyes; her thighs would back into the desk – her hand would accidentally land on his chest as he approached and she half-heatedly tried to stop him. It would stay on his chest, soft and alluring. He imagined he would trap her, his body a solid barrier – his legs in between hers and the desk would keep her firmly pressed against him.

He wondered if he should kiss her first or trail his hands down her body; trace the curvy figure and then lean in to capture her lips – he imagined –

_Smack_ – a rolled up piece of paper landed right in his face and Provenza exclaimed "_Flynn!_" in an annoying voice. Andy cursed his partner. Inwardly he lamented; his little whimsy fantasy would never, ever be possible. Foremost, he would never have the audacity, second she would slap him silly. Third, it would never happen. Fourth, she was his superior; he knew that there were boundaries to what their relationship could contain. Friendly coworkers, yes. Secret, sweaty sex in the office, no.

He sighed. He needed to get laid. To get his mind of her.

He looked down at the file in front of him and was just about to contemplate actually reading when he heard the unmistaken click of her heels against the floor. He twitched; looked up and caught her eyes. She smiled and gave a little wave as she guided Rusty into her office.

He smiled to himself - Maybe it would happen outside work. He imagined stumbling into her in the supermarket, with Rusty. The kid would invite him to dinner; she would give him an apologetic smile but he would accept the invitation with a beam. He imagined dinner would be friendly and platonic but when Rusty left the two of them alone, it would be something entirely different. It would be almost tense; the atmosphere would tingle between them and they would glance at each other awkwardly. They would stand up at the same time and clear the table; laughing at their shared awkwardness.

Their hands would brush; he imagined her hands would be soft and tingly. They would suddenly stand close, rinsing dishes – he imagined he would be able to feel the warmth of her skin – her scent would be overwhelming this close. He imagined he would push an unruly strand of her hair back in place – she would stand still and her eyes would be obscure in their depths but he imagined she would unconsciously lean closer to him.

He would kiss her then; his hands still in her hair and their lips attached –

"_Flynn – what _are_ you doing?_"

He was going to strangle Provenza, Andy mused darkly.

He sighed.

It would never happen. He smiled nonetheless; it didn't mean he couldn't think about it though.

He watched Provenza roll his eyes.

He glared back, lifted the file and indicated he was reading with a lifted eyebrow.

He really needed to get laid, he mused.

– he went back to the desk. She would be leaning across her desk, her upper body stretched as she tried to open a drawer and find a file. It would be late. The – purple he mused, he liked her in purple – material of her skirt would ride slightly up – the slit in the back would present a tantalizing view. He would sneak up – he imagined trapping her – his hips pressed into her –

_Squeaky _– Provenza was tilting his chair back and forth, the sudden sound loud. Andy looked up and glared at him; this was goddamn unbelievable.

He sighed; maybe he should just postpone. Yeah; this would better and more conducive when he was alone.

Andy started reading the report, eyeing Provenza with disdain.

**-o-**

Ta da, hope you enjoyed this


End file.
